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The Veteran Sergeant had made his way by the interior on a keen watch, aiming his bolter into the darkness of the forest. Occasionally, far figures would begin to form by the trees, but not even the Astartes' far superior eyesight could make out whether these were heretical scum or simply wild animals. Doros couldn't tell in this darkness anyway, and he could not just leave the Commissar and his men alone. Not for some wild goose chase.

The interior of the Valkyrie was utterly shrouded in dark clouds of smog, which had exuded from the flames within. The side turrets were completely enveloped by the fire, and the smoke was freed from the broken side doors of this hulk. The door way to the cockpit was sealed completely shut. Almost as if it had been left untouched by the fleeing crew. In spite of this, there was no loot to be found within the interior. Only the roasted heads of former Imperial guardsmen that rolled across the floor, and a large symbol of Chaos Undivided that stood like a curse upon the pilot's door.

The Sergeant would get on his Vox. "Sir we have signs of heretics, lots of bodies...the bridge of the ship is sealed with something.... an emblem is on it... possibly of heretical origin.... we are breaching the room," The sergeant said before putting a explosive on the door.


The commissar would wacth the forest while watching, looking at the Space Marine. Then he charged the Las-gun. "I don't like this,"

The Astartes nodded in kind. "Likewise Commissar. Everything seems to be almost a little... too quiet?" Doros kept watch alongside Grim, though it would seem that the forest shadows were beginning to change far more rapidly. Some would even come closer, though they would hurry off as soon as they caught sight of a bolter's aim. It was far too obvious now what lurked amongst the trees.

The commissar would move among his men, telling them to open fire once the hostiles moved into the clearing. Then he would look back to the space marine wand aim his las gun at the tree line.

A dull thud could be heard as a the cokpit was breached. Followed by a quick comms burst. It meant all clear, but however, it may not be. The Sergeant couldn't see, so his men were backing away from the door.

Doros kept his gun aimed toward the ever-rustling tree line. This tension felt as though it was not going to last any longer now. Something was going to kick off very soon. Though as he backed away to get a clearer sight, his ears caught sound of a very faint ticking noise once more by the Valkyrie. This noise was far closer the darker side of the aircraft, but it could also be heard by those within the interior. "Commissar. Do you hear that noise?" An alarmed Doros whispered.

The remnants of a visibly broken corpse littered the bloodstained cockpit. The combat knife that was plunged within his stomach by his own hand obviously indicated that this cultist had committed suicide. Perhaps this was what led their crash. However, there was yet another bloodstained note by the pilot's body, which had by complete luck not yet burned away. Unlike the informal note Doros had handed the Commissar, this letter was quite literally entitled "ORDERS FROM CICERO: INFILTRATION"

The Commissar would turn and get on his Vox. "Sergeant, get out of there as fast as you can.... MOVE!" Then the commissar would level his Lasgun back at the tree-line and begin to squeeze the trigger.

Upon hearing that, the guardsmen would sprint to the exit. The sergeant would be on their heel, holding stuffing the note in his Flak armor as he ran. He would move as fast as he could, being about 50 feet behind them. THey were close to the exit and he wouldn't stop for anything.

'Where do we run to!?' Doros thought to himself as he scurried away from the ticking Valkyrie. 'We are trapped in the dead of night, the forest is a labyrinth!' But Doros wasn't allowed to ponder anymore. For no less than just a few seconds later, the Valkyrie exploded.

"AMBUSH!!" Doros screamed furiously as his body hit the dirt. As he rose from the ground, he could see the devastation that lay around him. The fire shone horrifically like a phoenix, whilst bits of the aircraft would fly into the different directions amongst the forest. What was once just a forest fire now engulfed the area in a bright inferno. The screaming of furious men shook the forest, as the bloodthirsty cultists of Chaos charged from behind the trees. They were accompanied by two dozens of fallen peasants. Their weapons were incredibly primitive, bearing only pitchforks and pathetic little iron longswords. These paupers were now servants of Khorne however, and they would attack with extreme fury regardless.

But the real threat in truth was none of these fanatical fools. As they charged blindly, a tall shadow loomed over the dozens of screaming peasants. He bore his own bolter pistol gripped around his hand, and held a chainaxe firmly in his other. His power armour was utterly debased, and he bore the mark of Khorne across his waist. A Khorne Berzerker lay among the ranks, and he wanted the best kill, which was either the loyalist marine, or the Commissar.

The skirmish had begun.

The night would light up with lasers as their charge began. The men and women of the first squad were fearless and would not budge at teh charging men. The mostly charred form of the Seargent would wander out, stumbling as his head and legs were burning as he fell into the dirt and burned. One man ran and poured some water on him and put him out while our medic checked him. The commissar was sending his own beams of death downrange until his las-gun over heated. The first of the cultists jumped over the little entrenchment they had formed and went rigth for the commissar. Grim drew his chainsword and side stepped the man and drove the roaring blade into the mans stomach. Then killed the man with it.

Doros took aim of his bolter, and began to gun the heretics that threatened to swarm the group. "For the Emperor!" The Astartes shouted as he opened fire. He denied the fanatical zealots of a kill as they lept over the entrenchment, only to be ripped apart by a bolter shell. Despite this, these irredeemable cultists were not fazed by the odds in the least; they would keep on coming until the last drop of blood.

The Berzerker still continued to spectate the fray however. Aside from a few bolter shots to harass the guardsmen with, it was clear the Berzerker was only interested in the strongest and most worthy. Anything else was an insult to Khorne himself.

The Commissar yelled "LEAVE NONE ALIVE! FOR THE EMPEROR!" firing his bolt pistol into any who got close. Then, when one drove his combat knife into the commissar's shoulder he grabbed the man's head with his cybernetic arm and squeezed until a sickening pop could be heard as the man's skull broke upon and his brains spilt onto the ground.. The rest of the guard were slowly closing a defensive circle to hold them back. the Commissar looked at the Space Marine. "Cut off the head and the body dies, we need to kill the beserker,"

"Understood Commissar!" Doros shouted, almost being drowned out by his bolter. "I shall draw his ire, ready your men for the onslaught!" His magazine was getting dry, and so the Veteran Sergeant threw down the empty bolter cartridge onto the grass. He took one of the two krak magazines that swung across his bandolier and clipped it in. Doros aimed a rapid barrage of at least five rounds at the berzerker. It had caught his attention. The Chaos marine revved his chainaxe and charged into the fray like a wild bull. Almost leaping over the entrenchment as though it was nothing. "Loyalist skulls for the skull throne!" The Berzerker roared. Things were about to get very messy...

The commissars men moved flawlessly out of the way. The man would let his chain-sword roars as he hefted its weight as he frowned. His other hand, the cyrbernetic arm, pulled the knife out of his shoulder. His men however, were waiting fro Grim's order to bury the man in laser fire. Grim would ready his guard as the man came charging in, only to roll at the last second. Who knows what the Space Marine did.

Doros threw his bolter to the floor, and unleashed the chainblade, whipping it from his back. It was heavy indeed, even for a space marine. "Emperor, guide my blade!" Doros roared as he charged at the Berzerker, finally swinging the loud chainblade at the direction of the traitor marine. The Berzerker staggered as both melee weapons were caught in a deafening deadlock. The Berzerk pressed his bolter arm onto the chain axe, making the lock even. But Doros soon felt himself being overpowered by the sheer ferocity of the Khorne worshipper.

The Commissar did not care about fair, he plays to win. So he grabbed his bolt pistol and fired one shot at the Bezerkers knee, letting out a lour pop of exploding flesh bone and steel as the bolt had hit home. Then he adjusted himself to fire at more cultists, unloading his last bolter mag into them and switching into a furious series of melee fighting, he was outnumbered, but the commissar was fighting hard. That was until the sound of a shotgun could be heard. The Sergeant, he was alive. He pumped his weapon in his one arm and then growled as he shot another cultists. "Hold me, They are losing numbers, ADVANCE," HE yelled to the men. They readied bayonets and began to slowly expand the circle, there was one thing for certain, these guardsmen were good.

As the Berzerker roared in agony from the shot to his knee, the tie-up was finished. As he attempted to break of the lock and charge the Commissar, Doros' chainblade caught the traitor's axe-arm, sawing through it until only a grizzly wound was left. The warrior of Khorne knelt in agony; his screams echoed throughout the forest. With their weapon of destruction at death's door (and many of their fellow heretics dead) the rest of the rabid peasants were routed, they all fled back to the darkness of the forest in panic. They would trouble the guardsmen no more.

The kneeling Berzerker looked up to his headsman, the Space Marine. He was not dead just yet. The Chaos Marine placed his empty bolter pistol on the dirt, and threw off his helmet; the Mark of Khorne was branded upon his decaying skin.

The commissar let out a loyd huff and grabbed his Las-gun and charged it again with a fresh charge pack. Then he walked to the bezerker and aimed it. His gloved hand would slowly squeeze the trigger before he said with a scowl. "any last words heretic scum?". The Commissar looks as if he had been through the ringer, crimson red cuts were all over his good arm and his great coat was stained. The men were in no better a condition, however, they were finishing off the injured as they moved through the fields of dead. The Sergeant sat down and let out a murmur of pain as the medic fixed him up and patched him up.

That was, until the injured man yelled. "Space Marine! Get over here will ya?"

The Berzerker spoke nothing for a second, only spitting at the Commissar's feet before giving a scowl of his own. Then the melancholic traitor spoke in a self-loathing tone: "I die stained in the blood of my own, and that of unworthy weaklings. I failed to prove my worth. May Khorne forgive me." After that, the Berzerker said no more, eager for the Commissar to get the deed over and done with.

Doros' chainblade was stained with Khornate blood. He picked his bolter up from the grass beside the dancing flames, and made his way to the sergeant that beckoned him. "What do you require of me, Sergeant?" The Marine asked with his bolter held close.

The Commissar set down the Las-gun and couldn't help but say it. He loaded the pistol and pulled back the bolt, then he leveled it at the man's head and adjusted his hat. Then he said it "If you will not serve in combat, then you will serve on the firing line," Then the guns report echoed through the clearing as his head was blown apart by the round.

The Sergeant dug through his partially burned Flak armor and pulled out the miraculously undamaged note and handed it to the space marine.

Doros took the undamaged letter from the Sergeant's burnt hand, replying with a small nod in thanks. He flipped open the contents of the bloodstained letter, eager to find out more evidence of heretic strongholds. Two had now already been dealt with, so hopefully this letter would reveal the final scouting party. What the Marine found however was something most certainly to worry about.

"To the weakling Slaneeshi miser Uriel

You have been ordered by Champion Cicero to scout the Feudal world Triandr for invasion. The constant bloodshed spilled in the name of conquest attracts the fury of Khorne. The simple minds of the primitive folk do not comprehend what is truly causing the turmoil which we shall release from it's imprisonment. Your company is to scout the region of Sipang for a suitable landing place for our warband, as well as look for any signs of Daemonic presence along the way. I have placed under your command a Berzerker of Khorne, as it is paramount that you do not fail.

This letter should have been given to you by Hermes just before his departure. He has been commanded to scout Caritaigne, with your catamite Arcadius in Eokaroe. By time you have reached Triandr, our fleet will assault within an estimated two Terran days. Should I find the three of you, or any of your company still here on fleet Tartaros, I will personally dismember you all with my powersword.

Go with the blessing of Chaos Undivided. Glory to the band of Rebirth.
Lieutenant Porthos"

There was more writing at the bottom of the letter it would seem, but it was heavily bloodstained and illegible.

Doros stomped toward Grim with a grave feeling in his heart: "Commissar, it appears that we will have to double time our efforts." The Veteran sergeant stated, handing over the letter to the Commissar.

The Commissar would read the letter and then sigh. "Well, we need to get the 15th and 13th down here as fast as possible and see if the 14th will get down here by anychance. Then we will send out ships out of system, we Foruscians do not have the number for a space battle. The Ships will send an alert to Cadia and The closest imperial planets,. Then we will have to hold off with 55 Tanks, 20 Basilisk platforms and 12,000 men against a warband until they show up," The Commissar said with a frown. "24,000 if the 14th lands... crap... maybe we can get some men from any nearby fleets.... I think I saw one from Krieg nearby on the Vox back on the ship," Then the Commissar looked at the Space Marine. "It'll be one hell of a fight,"